


Heat

by scamvnder



Category: Telltale games, The Wolf Among Us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 16:09:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14382210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scamvnder/pseuds/scamvnder
Summary: #128 “Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.” and #81 “I’ll take care of it.” with Bigby please??Bigby made a promise and hasn't lived up to it.





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr: donnvdonowitz :)

Your teeth chatter loudly against one another as you tug at the duvet, desperate for the warmth it provides. 

Bigby had promised to get the heating fixed in his apartment weeks ago (read months ago), had even told you Flycatcher would be on it in no time. What a dirty liar. Your jaw begins to ache and you clench it shut, groaning in frustration when it does nothing to cease the way your body shakes. 

A warm and solid hand smacks down on your hip, Bigby’s callused palm rubbing at the skin there roughly, but all you notice is the warmth it provides. 

“Be quiet.” 

You want to give him the finger, but the thought of removing any body part from under the blanket seems like a nightmare, so you settle for not so gently kicking him in the leg with your foot, eliciting a gruff, almost growl from Bigby from the other side of the bed. 

The hand that was settled so nicely is gone in a flash and you find yourself whining and missing its presence before the better part of you remembers that the reason you’re suffering near frigid temperatures in a drafty apartment in the first place is because of whose hand it was attached to.

“You promised you’d get the heating fixed, Wolf.” You can see the vague outline of his shoulders stiffen a little and you know that Bigby has inhaled, his last name reserved only for times when you’re serious. 

He rolls over and climbs on top of you with a frown, chestnut hair falling in front of his face, dark eyes reflecting slightly in the dark. He looks exhausted and it makes your chest ache with guilt. You’re complaining about being cold and he has to spend his afternoons making sure the Fables don’t kill each other. 

But then you remember how freaking cold you are. 

“No! Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.” You protest, although weakly because he is really, really warm, already beginning to shove at his too heavy shoulders, huffing a little when he doesn’t budge even a little. You’re still struggling when he speaks.

“I’ll take care of it.” 

His sandpaper voice is a lot softer than normal and apologetic, and a little muffled against your skin. You pause before smoothing your hands over his shoulders with a deep sigh. 

“Tomorrow. I’ll talk to Flycatcher, see what he can do. I promise.” 

You could settle for tomorrow if it meant Bigby stayed where he was.


End file.
